Revelry At The Cheesecake Warehouse
by divine one
Summary: Spencer gets a response from someone to his 'whynotdateme' ad. spencer/sam
1. Chapter 1

Devylish  
Revelry At The Cheesecake Warehouse 1/2  
iCarly  
Sam/Spencer  
1652  
PG (part one)  
Response to iCarly Kink meme prompt at LJ's **caps_nevelocity**, to have: SPENCER GETS A REPLY ON HIS PROFILE TO MEET (WHOEVER YOU CHOOSE) AT THE CHEESECAKE WAREHOUSE, STICKS AROUND AND DRINKS A LITTLE TOO MUCH DURING DINNER, LEADS TO A SLIGHTLY DRUNKEN QUICKIE IN THE RESTROOM/COATROOM/PARKING LOT OR SOMEPLACE IN OR NEAR THE RESTAURANT.  
Disclaimer on profile

Spencer settled on to the stool and stared at the email subject line: _You have one message! _The sender was . It had been two plus years since he filled out a profile on that website, and it had been two years since he'd received a message from someone.

Two years and he was still single.

He clicked the email open.

_Congratulations! Ivegotathing4u has sent you an email! Click on the link below to review this member's profile – and make a connection today!_

With a sigh, Spencer clicked the link.

There wasn't a picture attached to the profile/message, but there was a small description of his admirer. Seattle born and raised, Blonde/Blue, 5.0", petite, 18-24 yrs old.

He read on.

_Hi! Saw your profile and am very interested. Would love to meet you over dinner or lunch and see if we might be a fit. Drop me a line. ~I~_

Spencer pursed his lips for half a second before hitting the reply button. _No video? No picture? I'm an artist; visual. I need to know who I'm talking to._ He hit send.

Moving around to his other emails, he blinked when less than three minutes later he got a response to his email.

_I promise, if you don't like what you see when we meet, you can walk away, no hurt feelings. Whaddya have to lose? ~I~_

What **did** he have to lose? Not much. He was as single as single could get... best case scenario, he found the love of his life, middle case scenario, he found a substitute for his hand for a night. Worst case scenario? He had a meal that he didn't have to make himself.

_K. how about the Cheesecake Warehouse on Apple St. and Vine? Tomorrow night? 730?_ Send.

He was closing down his email a few minutes later when his 'date's' response appeared.

_C u then. ~I~_

Great. He had a date. With a stranger.

At least there'd be cheesecake.

222222222

Seated at his table, third glass of beer in front of him, Spencer glanced at his watch again and finally, irrevocably, realized that he'd been stood up. He'd been waiting for 'ivegotathing4u' to show up for their cheesecake date for fifty minutes. And nothing.

Lifting his hand he waved the waiter over.

"Another beer sir, while you wait?"

Spencer could hear the condescension in the waiter's voice.

"I'm ready to order, I'll have the lasagne fromage, and a gin and tonic."

"Ooooh! I'll have what he's having!"

Spencer blinked and looked at Sam Puckett who was suddenly seated in the chair opposite of his. "Sam?" He looked up at the waiter, "Uhmm, she'll have what I'm having, and a Peppy-Cola."

The waiter ran his eyes over Sam, then nodded his head in agreement before heading away from the table.

"Sam what're you doing here?"

"I could ask the same thing about you."

She reached for a bread stick from the bowl on the middle of the table and raised a brow in his direction.

"I was waiting for – suppose to meet some - hey, no, wait, I asked you first."

"I'm here for the cheesecake."

Spencer raised a brow in _her_ direction.

"What? Momma likes cheesecake."

3333333333

Three beers, two gin and tonics, and a tequila shot into the night, and Spencer was, well, hammered.

Sam finished off the last of her cheesecake. "Drink something besides liquor Spence, or you're going to have a killer headache in the morning." She pushed her glass of soda in Spencer's direction.

"I-I don't want soda," While his words were only slightly slurred, his motor skills were extremely slurred. He reached to push Sam's glass back in her direction but his push/pull levers were apparently screwed. Instead of pushing the glass back to Sam, he pulled the glass forward, spilling the dark soda all over his shirt and his khakis.

"Ohhh!" Sam bit back on a laugh.

"Crap!" Spencer half sobered as the cold liquid hit his body, "Perfect ending to a perfect night!"

"It wasn't that bad, was it?" Sam stood up and moved to Spencer's side, her small hand hooking around his bicep.

He looked up at her and stood up under her gentle prompting. As he thought back over the night, through alcohol blurred braincells, he realized she was right. It hadn't been a bad night. Not once she arrived. Per usual, once Sam was around, everything was brighter, and more... more... just more. Standing up and towering over her small figure, he offered a contrite, apologetic, "No, it wasn't that bad. The Sam part was good."

The Sam part is always good. He thought.

"The Sam part is always good," she chirped and tugged him through the restaurant with her.

"Wa-wait. Where are we going?" With his free hand Spencer brushed at his damp shirt and pants.

Sam grinned over her shoulder, "To the bathroom silly; Peppy-cola stains."

44444444444

When they got to the back hallway containing the lavatories, Sam pulled to a stop, causing Spencer to run full force into her back. They stumbled a few steps before Sam, freakishly strong Sam, stopped their forward progress. She glanced between the mens room door and the womens room door for a few seconds before making her decision and dragging Spencer toward the left.

"Whoa. Whoa!" Spencer grabbed onto the door jamb as Sam headed into the ladies room, dragging him behind her.

Sam turned around, "What?"

"This is the ladies room."

"Uh huh." She pulled again.

Spencer dug his heels in to the carpeted floor. "I know Freddie and I sometimes seem like 'one of the girls' to you and Carly, but I, at least, am a boy. A man! I can't go in," he pointed with his chin in a fearful manner, "there."

"Why not? Are you afraid you're going to get girl cooties?" Sam stopped pulling, but kept her hand on Spencer's arm as she sidled up to him, her chest to his as she looked up and teased him. "Some boys like having girls, and girls' things, all over them."

Spencer gulped as his thoughts went to a completely inappropriate place at the mention of girls' things.

Taking advantage of Spencer's momentary distraction, Sam pulled him over the threshold and into the bathroom.

Spencer's eyes lit around the lounge area of the ladies room. Taking in the muted music, the fancy soap dispensers, the candy machines (okay they were tampon dispensers, but somethings he didn't need to know), the soft cushy chairs... "Holy crap! Is every ladies room this decked out?" He made a slow spin taking the whole room in.

Sam snorted as she reached for a handful of paper towels and turned the hot water on. "Pretty much."

"I wanna be a girl!"

Sam turned around and faced Spencer, a huge grin on her face. "No you don't." She walked up to him, the towels in her hand and started to lament being a woman as she rubbed at Spencer's shirt. "Aunt Flo visiting once a month, bringing cramps, making you pissy, the fact that you're _considered_ the 'weaker' sex, although," she quoted Gilda Radner, "there is one plus about being a woman; you're always going to be the first one saved off of a sinking ship."

She waited for Spencer to chuckle, or make some comment, but all she heard was silence. "Spence?" She looked up at his face as she continued to rub at the soda stain. "Spen –."

Spencer was looking down at her, his dark eyes hooded.

She'd seen that look before. Not on him. But on the boys she'd dated. The men her mom had 'dated'. The look was lust.

She'd been interested in Spencer for – forever. He was the first boy she'd had a crush on. The first boy she'd had sex dreams about. The only guy she'd ever had 'non-sex' dreams about.

She'd hit eighteen this year, and while Carly and Fredwardo had headed off to their respective colleges, Sam had stayed behind. Behind in Seattle, and behind with Spencer. She didn't come by the loft daily, as she use to do when there was a gang of them, but she would stop by at least twice a week. To check on him.

To see if he was still there.

To see if he was still alone... waiting for her.

Oh, logically, she knew he wasn't waiting for her, but every time she stopped by the loft and saw that he was still single, or just ending another short term, tortured relationship, something inside of her whispered that he was 'still single' because he was waiting for her.

Waiting for her to grow up.

Well, as she'd said, she'd turned eighteen this year. And she was pretty certain she was all grown up. Hence her being at the Cheesecake Warehouse tonight. Earlier this week she'd suddenly remembered Spencer's account on and it had occurred to her that maybe if she could get him on a date, she could convince him that she was a grown up; the right kind of grown up woman for him.

The only problem with the plan was that she'd chickened out. She'd paced outside of the CW for over 45 minutes before forcing herself to walk in and pretend that she was just there to taste the cheesecake.

Versus being there to taste Spencer.

And now she found herself being stared at by Spencer in a way she'd only ever imagined he'd look at her.

His hand clamped on to her wrist and he stopped her from her continued, unplanned dabbing and rubbing of his body; her hand now perilously close to... to... well Spencer's 'playland'.

TBC


	2. Just Desserts

_Author Devylish  
Title Revelry at the Cheesecake Warehouse  
__Chap 2 Just Desserts  
__Words 1852  
__Rating R  
__Disclaimer On profile  
__**Warning **S e x. If you're under the legal age of consent in your homeland, please don't read any further. No matter what your age is, if you're having s e x, protect yourself – use condoms.  
__AN prompt from somewhere to have Spencer get invited on a date through his online dating account... have an __**encounter**__ with the person who invites him and maybe get caught._

_(((((())))))_

_His hand clamped on to her wrist and he stopped her from her continued, unplanned dabbing and rubbing of his body; her hand now perilously close to... to... well Spencer's 'playland'._

(((((())))))

Just enough alcohol had been imbibed by slender, wiry Spencer to make his inhibitions – while not quite disappear – get fuzzier by the second. And when inhibitions fade? All you're left with is emotion. Feeling.

Spencer had always thought Sam was cute. From little girl cute – all blonde curls and baby blues – to young woman cute. Blonde waves and sparking, energetic, blues.

And now, now that he was uninhibited. And she was close... her hand in dangerous territory. He couldn't stop himself from crossing the line.

He had to do it, just once.

Dipping his head to hers, Spencer kissed Sam.

It was tentative at first. Laced with fear, and the unknown, and a little bit of beer.

Soon, however, it became less tentative. It became less about the beer. And very much so about the known... Their shared humor. Their joy in all that was quirky. Their pleasure in just spending time with one another.

He curved his fingers through her hair. Something he'd dreamed... dreamed... of doing.

It was softer than he'd hoped.

Sam, standing on tiptoe, had her hands on his shoulders, at the back of his neck. And the sensation, small though it was, made him lose what remained of his senses.

He spun them around, lifting Sam as he did so, and pressing her back against the door.

Body against body. Why hadn't they done this sooner? A faint flutter of his memory reminded him that Sam was Carly's best friend. And that she was just recently turned eighteen.

But the memory was faint... and fluttery. Just enough to tickle.

As he shifted against Sam he heard her lock the door. And then he felt her wrap her legs around his hips. And the tickle, the faint and fluttery one? It was assuaged. Disappearing to nothing.

He found his hands moving from her waist to her hips and breasts. Neither were large, but they felt – definitively – perfect. And she was _definitely_ a woman...

A small voice in the back of his head whispered: _a barely eighteen year old girl._ And he found himself pausing in his touches... in his kisses. "Sam...?"

She tugged at the back of his head pulling him closer – if closer was possible – and apparently it was – and she whispered against his lips, "Shut up and kiss me Spencer."

His mouth dropped from her lips to her jaw... and from her jaw to her neck. And he was still saying her name between kisses. Half in praise – of her flavor, her feel, her responsiveness – half in plea – hoping she'd be strong enough to stop him.

But she had no plans of stopping him.

No plans of asking him to stop fondling her breasts. To stop clenching his fingers on her ass.

After all, she was eighteen now. And she'd wanted him for longer than she could remember wanting anything. For a woman use to immediate gratification, waiting this long... waiting over six years? Yeah, Spencer Shay didn't stand a chance in hell of her being the one to put the brakes on this.

She tugged at the buttons of his shirt, carelessly pulling at them until the shirt gave up the ghost and three of them popped open. She pushed at his shoulders trying to push the cotton plaid shirt off of his body.

With a half a curse, Spencer paused in his exploration of Sam's body, to pull at the remaining two buttons keeping him trapped in his shirt. Then he reached for the bottom of his t shirt and pulled that off over his head.

Somewhere in the back of her mind Sam realized that Spencer and she were macking in the ladies room of the Cheesecake Warehouse and she began to giggle.

"Whasso funny?" Spencer nipped at her neck again.

She worked her hands to the button and zipper of his jeans. "Nothin'." She chuckled again before adding, "You're gonna be naked in the ladies room."

He lifted his head and looked her in the eyes. "Am I gonna be naked in the ladies room?"

Sam moved her hands from Spencer's pants – frustrated by their failure to drop off of his hips (regardless of the fact that this failure was caused by the fact that her thighs were wrapped round his hips) – to her own, pulling at the tie of her cargo pants. "If Mama has anything to say about it, we're _both_ gonna be naked in the ladies room."

"Gotta love Mama."

Sam froze. Just for a second. The Shay's used the word love openly, freely, and in her opinion, much too often. Not like the Puckett's. The Puckett's would avoid using the word 'love' at all costs.

Sure she knew Spencer had just used the word love in a lusty, playful way... but... despite what people might think, she was a girl. Spencer wouldn't be her first – by far – but he'd be one of the few who she actually cared about.

And he'd used the word 'love'.

Mama 'love', but it was love none the less.

So she froze.

And then she melted.

"Yeah you do." She whispered softly, lifting her hips away from the door so that he could tug the back of her pants down. And her mind added, 'Kinda gotta love Spence too.'

Pulling the khaki cloth down, his hands on her bare bum, Spencer finally realized that he would have to remove Sam from his hips, at least temporarily, if either of them were to get the satisfaction they were so intently working towards. She seemed to reach the same realization as him because she pressed her hands on his shoulders, and dropped her legs from his body.

She wiggled out of her panties and her jeans simultaneously, letting them puddle at her feet as Spencer pushed at his boxers and jeans.

He hadn't managed to struggle out of them, the pants and boxers wrapped around his ankles when Sam moved her hands to his chin, lifting his head and pulling him back up towards her lips.

"Told you you'd end up naked in the ladies room." She whispered against his mouth as she lifted one leg and then the other – effectively positioning herself against his frame.

His hands slid down over her ass and he pulled her closer, whispering in her ear, "Now would be a good time for you to tell me to stop."

"Spencer?"

His gut clenched, "Sam?"

"I've got a thing for you."

"A thing...?" It took him a second or two, but eventually, he caught on. _Ivegotathing4u._ He grinned. "Not to be cheesey or corny, but," he pressed against her, "I think I've got a thing for you too."

Sam hitched her body against the wall... up along Spencer's frame and when she stopped – having found the right spot – she reached between them and slowly lowered herself onto his length. Her eyes widened at the same time that his narrowed, almost closing.

"Sam, Sam, Sam, Sammmm." He was chanting her name, low and soft. And she was breathing in time with his voice. Her breath only catching once when he began a steady stroke in and out of her.

Spencer had... questionable skills in some areas. Some people loved his art... some hated it. Some people thought his cooking was wonderful... some thought it was laughable. It was hit or miss with how people were going to take him. But at this? At making love to Sam Puckett? He was a star. A pro. No question about it. His hands, his mouth, his whole body KNEW how to love Sam Puckett. He was a natural.

When he slipped his hand between their bodies, touching her... just... in... the... right... way... she shattered. Falling in to a thousand and one little pieces.

With his name on her lips.

And it was that last bit... her breathless moan of his name that did it... that pushed him into his own climax.

They stood there, draped around one another, their bodies being held up by the wall, until their muscles stopped trembling.

Spencer slowly moved his head away from the crook of Sam's neck. Curious and afraid and hopeful – all at the same time – about how she was going to react.

He made himself look her in the eyes. Her satiated, seemingly satisfied blue eyes. He started, "Are you oka –?"

But before he could finish, Sam had lifted her hand to his face, her thumb caressing his cheek, and she spoke. "Mama likes."

He beamed.

She grinned.

They leaned in towards one another for another kiss, when –

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

They snapped their heads apart, eyes wide as they fully realized that they were NAKED IN THE CHEESECAKE WAREHOUSE BATHROOM!

Scrambling away from each other and looking despearately for articles of clothing that had been strewn around the room they began to get dressed.

"Bra? Dude where's my bra?" Sam quietly yelled.

"It's in the sink. With my tshirt. How'd my t-shirt get in the sink?" He whispered back.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK! "Hello? Is someone in there?"

Spencer looked at the half dressed Sam, who was frozen and staring at him. He hissed, "That sounded an awful lot like -"

"Carly?" Sam shouted out questioningly.

"Sam?" Carly's voice clearly punctured the bathroom door.

"Carly! What are you doing at the Cheesecake Warehouse, you're suppose to be at Freddie's!" Spencer's hands were on his hips as he yelled through the still locked door.

Silence reigned for a few moments.

Sam hung her head and shook it when she saw the look of realization of what he'd just done dawn on Spencer's face.

Carly's voice was suddenly several octaves higher than it normally was "Spencer! What are you doing in the ladies room? … With Sam?"

"Oh crap." He muttered and closed his eyes. "How the hell do we get out of this one?"

Sam took the three steps necessary to reach Spencer's side and wrapped her arms around his waist, looking up at him as he opened his eyes in surprise. "Maybe we can convince her that you got confused... you've only been going to mens rooms for like... 29 yrs?"

"Thaink she'd fall for it?" He placed his arms around Sam's slight figure, tangling his fingers in her hair.

Giving a mock sigh, she responded, "Hmpf. I don't know. Carly's kinda smart."

"She is."

"We may just have to... face the music."

Spencer looked down at Sam, beautiful witty strong sexy Sam.

His Sam.

Brushing a stray lock of hair away from her cheek he dipped down to kiss her... "Papa likes."


End file.
